


(But Feeling Lonely) Don't Mean You're Alone

by Rubyleaf



Category: Shadow of the Fox Series - Julie Kagawa
Genre: Afterlife, But also, Canon Compliant as in "there's no evidence this can't have happened", Exploring the friendships we were robbed of 'cause canon sure didn't, Found Family, Friendship, Gap Filler, Gen, HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS, Healing, Kage Tatsumi Deserved Better, Tagging it anyway to be safe, WHOLE TRILOGY SPOILERS, canon complaint, does it count as Major Character Death if it's set right after him dying?, read at your own risk if you're not done with Night of the Dragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyleaf/pseuds/Rubyleaf
Summary: Tatsumi arrives in Meido with a hole in his heart and nowhere to go. Thankfully, Yumeko's friends are there to have his back and help him heal.
Relationships: Kage Tatsumi & Hino Okame & Reika & Taiyo Daisuke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	(But Feeling Lonely) Don't Mean You're Alone

**Author's Note:**

> _The house that you live in don't make it a home  
>  But feeling lonely don't mean you're alone_
> 
> — Alessia Cara, _I Choose_

As the sun rises over the destroyed landscape, a single soul floats to the horizon in a glowing ball of light, drifting into the sky and leaving the confines of the world.

For a long time, Tatsumi flies through darkness. The earth grows smaller and smaller below, the sun a distant light that is soon lost in the vastness around him. Stars drift by, constellations, twinkling colorfully in the distance—glimpses of other worlds, perhaps, inhabited by beings far beyond his imagination. Tatsumi doesn’t stop to explore them. Carried by an unexplainable pull, he flies past all of them, on and on until he loses all sense of space or time.

And then, from one moment to the next, he flies into a bright light and his feet hit solid ground.

Tatsumi opens his eyes. He doesn’t know when he has taken up human shape again, but when he looks down along himself he sees the body he is used to: the lean teenage boy, dressed in his clan’s black and purple, black hair falling into his eyes and obscuring his vision. But his wound is gone, and when he feels for his sword he discovers it is no longer there.

_Where…am I?_

Tatsumi looks around. He has landed on a rocky shore, the waves of the sea crashing and foaming where they meet the land. His legs are up to the knees in water, but he barely registers the way it seeps through his clothes, and even though it’s cold, he doesn’t shiver.

So this is Meido, he thinks. He doesn’t know how he imagined the place to be, but somehow this isn’t it. This place looks like it belongs to the world of the living, except that, back in Ningen-kai, he couldn’t feel wind or warmth or water anymore after he died.

His eyes scan his surroundings, searching for other arrivants, other souls he might know. There is no one. He is alone.

Tatsumi starts walking.

Bordering on the shore is a deep, dark forest, the gnarled trees taller and older than anything found in the living world. All the same their shadows are eerily familiar, and as he passes between their roots he suddenly remembers why.

_I carried her this way._

He has been here before, but back then he wasn’t alone. Back then he was alive, and he was half a demon, and on his arms he had a dying kitsune girl, unconscious and bleeding out. Now he isn’t injured anymore, not half drowned, not merged with the First Oni of Jigoku anymore. But his arms are empty, and the forest he walks through is silent except for the sound of his footsteps.

The forest deepens. On the edge of Tatsumi’s vision lights flicker by, but every time he stops and turns to look at them, they are already gone. Sometimes he thinks he can hear a voice calling out to him—Yumeko’s, Master Ichiro’s, Hakaimono’s—but there is never anyone there. The only thing around him are the trees, tall and silent and oblivious to his presence.

There are no times of the day here, no sunrise or sunset. There is no wind, no weather; only the trees, the undergrowth, the ever-unchanging light beneath their branches. Tatsumi keeps walking. He doesn’t know where he’s going, where he wants to go. He doesn’t know if he has anywhere to go. For all his life he has always had a destination, a place to go, a task to fulfill. But now there is nothing, nothing except for the great unknown.

Tatsumi keeps walking. He’s used to walking great distances alone. For most of his life, he has always been alone.

Except…has he?

Not truly alone, he realizes. Hakaimono has always been with him for the better part of his life, a constant presence that ensured he was never truly on his own. Abruptly Tatsumi finds himself missing the oni. He was the one responsible for most of his torment, and yet he would rather hear the demon’s taunting than nothing at all.

Without Hakaimono, all on his own—who is he, anyway?

Tatsumi’s feet stumble. The trees around him look exactly the same as those he already passed a few hours ago, or maybe days. Is it an illusion? Has he been walking in circles? Where is he coming from? Where is he going? Has he ever been headed anywhere at all?

And then his eyes land on a shimmering light in the distance, and though he doesn’t have a pulse anymore, his heart skips a beat.

This glade…

Forgetting himself, Tatsumi runs, crashing through the undergrowth into the light beyond. And sure enough, there it lies: the very glade where he called on the Kirin to bring Yumeko back to life, mere days ago and yet an eternity away. Except now the glade is dead and empty, and there are no kodama watching him from the trees, no sacred spirit to bring back the girl he loves more than life itself.

He is alone. Completely, truly alone.

Everyone and everything he held dear is worlds away, and he has no way to return.

His vision blurring, he falls to his knees. Can souls cry if they have no bodies to form tears with? For the first time in many years Tatsumi wants to cry, wants to break down sobbing until there are no tears left in his body, calling Yumeko’s name over and over until she hears him and answers. And yet there are no tears in his eyes, no sobs escaping from the tangle in his chest, no words coming from his ghostly mouth no matter how much his soul aches with loneliness and deep, deep loss.

Darkness falls around him. Tatsumi doesn’t know how long he sits there, unable to look up, unable to move, unable to think of anything other than Yumeko’s tear-stained, beautiful face. His light is gone. Gone, gone beyond his reach for many years, perhaps centuries, and all that remains for him are the shadows grinning at him like they want to swallow him up.

“…san? _Kage-san!_ ”

Something in Tatsumi stirs. This voice…he knows this voice. The shadows lift a little.

“Oi, Kage-san, can you hear me?” Footsteps rustle through the grass behind him, then a hand appears in his field of vision. “Are you awake? Hey!”

Tatsumi stirs, but his soul is still too heavy to respond, let alone take the long, familiar hand that is waving before his eyes. Something slides down his face, and it takes him a moment to register that it’s a single teardrop falling from his eye.

“He must be heartbroken,” another familiar voice remarks, and on the edge of Tatsumi’s vision something bright and shimmering moves over the grass. “Let us give him time, Okame-san. He may not yet be ready to stand up and speak.”

Tatsumi can’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. Two figures sit down beside him, one on either side. A hand comes to rest on his back, warm and strangely alive even though souls should be intangible. Another slides across his shoulders, then an arm wraps around his back and pulls him over to slump against a bony shoulder.

“I get how you feel,” Hino Okame mutters, his voice very quiet. “I miss Yumeko-chan too. She was like the little sister I never had.”

“We all miss Yumeko-san,” Taiyo Daisuke remarks, still resting his hand on Tatsumi’s back. “I am glad she still lives, but however selfish it sounds, our lives are less bright for lack of her presence.”

Little by little, the darkness around Tatsumi clears. His soul is still heavy, but the pain of losing Yumeko is now less acute, less overwhelming. Slowly, he lifts his head to look up at his two companions.

Hino Okame and Taiyo Daisuke. Yumeko’s friends, he thinks, and only tangentially his. If at all. They barely had any time to get to know each other.

“Why are you here?” he asks, his voice raspy from lack of use.

“We came across you on our search,” Daisuke replies, smiling quietly. “We have been looking for you for a while.”

Tatsumi blinks, an unfamiliar emotion fluttering up inside him. “For me?” he repeats. “Why?”

Okame offers a lopsided grin.

“We know how it’s like to be lonely,” he says, scratching his head the same way he did back when he was still alive. “So, you know. We were worried about you.”

Tatsumi’s soul tangles up into knots.

“Why?” he asks quietly. “I was never your friend.”

“You always were,” Daisuke corrects him.

“Yeah, you were a bit scary,” Okame admits. “But you’re still part of the family. Also, who else is supposed to look after you for Yumeko-chan?”

“I…” Tatsumi’s words fail him. He still isn’t used to kindness, to being cared for. And yet here these two are, offering just that.

“Thank you,” he mutters at length, staring at the grass and suddenly feeling like a small child.

Smiling again, Daisuke stands up, offering him a hand. Tatsumi takes it and rises to his feet, assisted by Okame from the side. To his amazement, he finds he can stand again. The glade doesn’t look quite as empty anymore.

“Let us go,” Daisuke says. “Reika-san will be glad to hear we found you.”

“Oh, she sure will,” Okame mutters. “The shrine maiden’s been nagging us for ages. Some things never change.”

Side by side they pass through the forest. The trees quickly grow less dense on either side, light filtering in through the branches until they finally step out into the open. A town rises up ahead of them, but even closer lies an almost-familiar shrine.

“Reika-san!” Okame calls. “We found him!”

There is a shuffle from inside, then the shrine maiden comes out. “About time!” she exclaimed. “What took you two so long? Kage-san!”

Hurrying up to him, she looks him up and down, inspecting his form as if looking for injuries. “Your soul is very battered,” she remarks, furrowing her brow. Turning to the noble and ronin, she adds, “What were you two thinking, taking so long to bring him back? Look at the state he’s in!”

“We humbly apologize,” Daisuke answers before Okame can respond with something less polite. “We only found him very recently, and at first he was in no state to walk. We brought him in as soon as we could.”

“Merciful Kami! Next time, Chu and I are doing the searching alone.” Reika lets out a huff. “Come on, Kage-san! Before you go anywhere else, we need to patch you up.”

—

Some time later Tatsumi finds himself sitting in the shrine, covered in patches and bandages by Reika’s skillful hands. “There you go,” she says. “This is as far as I can mend you. Some of your wounds are too deep for me to handle.”

Tatsumi looks up and down along himself, not understanding a thing. “Wounds?” he repeats.

“Your soul is badly hurt,” Reika answers. “I’ve done what I can for the more recent injuries, but there’s a lot that needs to heal on its own. I suspect you won’t be able to be reborn until your soul has fully finished healing.”

Dread jolts through him. “How long will that take?”

“I can’t say,” Reika replies, and the dread teeters on the edge of despair. “It depends on the person. The best thing you can do is try and heal from the bad things you dealt with in your lifetime.”

That’s a lot, Tatsumi thinks. So much he barely knows where to start.

“How do I do that?” he asks.

Reika hesitates.

“There is no one-size-fits-all solution,” says an aged voice from the door. “However, the best thing you can do is surround yourself with good things to balance out the bad.”

Reika lifts her gaze, her face lighting up. “Master Jiro!”

Striding over, the old priest sits down across from Tatsumi, Ko—in small dog form—curling up at his feet. “Find people who make you happy,” he says. “Do things that make you happy. Take your time to process all that happened to you, and then leave it in the past.”

_People who make me happy. Things that make me happy._

At first Tatsumi’s mind comes up all Yumeko. If he could spend time with her, he thinks, he would surely heal in no time. Except, that isn’t an option. And suddenly she seems further away than ever.

Except, something within him whispers, he isn’t alone. He is sitting in this shrine flanked by Yumeko’s friends who insist they are also his friends, who found him in the middle of despair, picked him up and brought him here to be pieced back together. He didn’t get to know them much while alive. But maybe now he actually has a chance.

“In that case,” he says hesitantly, fully prepared for a rejection, “may I stay here with you for a while?”

The smiles on the others’ faces tell him all he needs to know.

—

“There you are, Kage-san!” Okame calls out to him as he enters the shrine, returning from a walk and a lot of thinking. “Sit down, we’ve been saving a spot for you!”

Wary, Tatsumi pauses, regarding the ronin, then the noble with him, both smiling so invitingly that it’s obvious they’re up to no good. “What?”

“Sake,” Daisuke explains, motioning to the bottle between them. “Okame-san found it in town. Would you like some?”

For a second Tatsumi wants to say no, mentioning his duties, and then he remembers he doesn’t have duties anymore. He is free to drink, if he wants to. He isn’t sure how comfortable he is…but then again, without a body, can spirits even get drunk?

“Just a little,” he says, sitting down beside his companions. Okame doesn’t look for further encouragement before pouring a cup of sake and handing it to him. Tatsumi eyes it, then the ronin, and frowns.

“I said _a little_ ,” he remarks.

“That _is_ a little,” Okame shoots back. “Just take it! If you’re that much of a lightweight, take a sip every hour or something while we get wasted.”

Muttering an awkward thanks, Tatsumi takes a sip and can’t help grimacing. He has never much liked the pungent taste of alcohol, and the smell strongly reminds him of the stuff healers used to put on his wounds to keep them from getting infected.

“Disgusting,” he mutters.

Okame bursts out laughing. “It’s nasty when you first try it, huh?” he says, patting Tatsumi so hard on the back that he almost spills the sake. “Don’t worry, Kage-san! Just keep forcing it down, and someday you won’t be able to live without it.”

Now it’s Daisuke’s turn to laugh as Tatsumi snorts. “Is that a good thing?”

“No, it isn’t!” Reika’s voice comes from the next room. “We already have one alcoholic too many in this house,” she adds, poking her head out through the door. “Don’t you dare corrupt Kage-san with it!”

Okame eyes her up and down, then a smirk crosses his face. “Would you like a cup, Reika-san?” he says. “I’m sure we’d all love to see what our proper shrine maiden’s like piss-drunk.”

She chucks her comb at him, which he easily dodges. “Keep dreaming!” she shouts. “I wouldn’t think of it!”

Picking up the comb, Daisuke turns it over in his hand before an idea lights up his face, and he sticks it into Tatsumi’s hair. “Why, it suits you,” he remarks. “You should keep it in, Kage-san.”

“No, he shouldn’t! Give me my comb back, you thieves! I’m so sorry for their nonsense, Kage-san.” Pacing across the room, Reika reaches for Tatsumi’s hair, then gives him an appraising look. “Though Taiyo-san’s right, it does suit you.”

Tatsumi blinks. “I can’t say,” he replies. “I don’t have a mirror to check.”

The shrine erupts with laughter. Tatsumi doesn’t understand what he said that was so funny, but in the face of all this mirth he can’t help cracking a smile anyway.

—

Reika blinks as she looks up from the texts she was studying, visibly surprised to find Tatsumi in the doorframe. He understands her bafflement; he rarely seeks out the others, even now, Master Ichiro’s lessons about keeping distance still too drilled into his mind. But Master Jiro has told him to get rid of all that, so here he is, making an effort.

“What’s wrong?” the shrine maiden asks.

Tatsumi takes a breath, even though, as a ghost, he doesn’t technically need it. “Nothing,” he says. “Can you teach me about healing?”

Turning fully around, she stares at him like she thinks she didn’t hear him right. “Healing?” she repeats. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind, but…why all of a sudden?”

Tatsumi looks away. “I realized the only thing I know is how to fight,” he admits, his voice quiet and a little awkward. “I have no other skills, no interests, nothing. So…I thought I should change that.”

Reika gets up.

“Of course,” she says. “No problem at all. What would you like to know?”

For the next hour or two she lectures him about herbs and salves, cures for illnesses, pain and exhaustion. She mostly leaves out the part about patching up wounds, fully aware that Tatsumi knows that all too well already. Tatsumi listens closely. There are so many things she knows that he has never heard before, things that he hopes he’ll remember again in Ningen-kai so he can save people’s lives with this knowledge.

“You’re a good student,” Reika remarks when they finally take a break. “You pick things up fast, and you don’t ask stupid questions. I can’t imagine what would happen if I had to teach the other two idiots instead!”

“Teach what idiots what?” says a voice from the doorframe.

Reika snorts. “Speak of the devil,” she says. “How long have you been eavesdropping?”

“We just came in,” Okame retorts, entering the room followed by Daisuke. “What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to learn about healing,” Tatsumi explains. “All I can do is fight, and I want to change that.”

Daisuke’s face lights up with understanding. “Broadening your horizons is always a good idea, Kage-san,” he says. “If you would like further help, I can teach you about music and literature as well.”

Tatsumi lifts his head. “I would like that,” he says. “Thank you.”

Okame pulls a face.

“I don’t really know anything fancy,” he admits, cracking a wry smile. “But I guess I could teach you about playing dice.”

Tatsumi snorts, but he also smiles.

“I’ll take it.”

—

The moon is shining when Tatsumi steps outside, startled to find that he isn’t alone at the small stream passing in front of the shrine.

“Oh, it’s you,” Okame mutters, briefly meeting his eyes where he sits on the grass. “What brings you out here?”

For a moment Tatsumi doesn’t say anything; he only sits down beside the ronin, pulling at the grass. “You look like something is bothering you,” he remarks at length.

Okame lets out a humorless laugh. “Is it that obvious? Yeah, I guess there is,” he admits. “It’s nothing to worry about, though.”

Tatsumi looks up at him, his messy hair silhouetted against the light of the full moon.

“You can tell me,” he says.

Blinking, the ronin turns to stare down at him. “Hey, now—”

“You were there for me when I needed it,” Tatsumi adds. “Let me return the favor.”

Dark eyes rest on him, a heavy gaze, pensive and hesitant. Then Okame lets out a defeated sigh.

“I saw my brother today,” he says.

Tatsumi pauses. “What?”

“Yasuo. My younger brother,” Okame explains. “When we were out on the town. I don’t know if he recognized me, but…I keep thinking about it.” He stabs a hand through his hair. “You know, when my clan held that siege on your clan…he and I were both there, back then. Except I got scared and ran away from the final battle. And he stayed behind and died.” He swallows. “I left him to die.”

Tatsumi doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know how to comfort people, except maybe Yumeko. And certainly not in a situation like this.

“It was so long ago,” Okame continues, “but I keep thinking about it. If I wasn’t such a coward, maybe I could’ve gone after him. Told him I’m sorry for abandoning him. But…” He shrugs. “Would he even want to hear it? Our relationship was never that great…maybe he’ll refuse to forgive me.”

Turning the ronin’s words in his mind, Tatsumi thinks, wondering what to do. Wondering what he would do in such a situation—what _she_ would do.

“Yumeko,” he muses, “would tell you to talk to him anyway.”

Okame looks up.

“She’d say it’s clearly still bothering you, and you should get it off your chest,” Tatsumi continues slowly. “If he forgives you, maybe you can forgive yourself. And if he doesn’t, then at least you tried.”

“…you’re probably right.”

Taking a deep breath, Okame pushes himself to his feet, flashing a grin down at Tatsumi. “You’ve changed,” he remarks. “The old you was all prickly and loner-y, and here you are snapping me out of my funk.” He ruffles Tatsumi’s hair. “Thanks so much, Kage-san! I guess I’ll get myself some liquid courage and then go talk to him.”

For most of the next day Okame is absent, and when he returns his eyes are red and swollen from crying. But his features are also glowing with relief, and the grateful smile on his face tells Tatsumi everything he needs to know.

—

“Tatsumi-kun,” says a voice in the street, “it has been a while.”

Tatsumi spins around, his long-forgotten walls shooting up in a heartbeat. He knows this voice, even though the man it belongs to has aged in his absence; his hair is fully white now, his face covered in wrinkles. All the same, it barely takes him a second to recognize him.

“Master Ichiro,” he whispers. Panic grabs him. His eyes flit to the friends at his side, crowding closer to him as if sensing his fear. He wants to tell them not to. This man will surely beat him for letting people into his circle, and then force him to banish them all—or worse, cut them down to prove his loyalty to the Kage and the Kage alone.

But Master Ichiro doesn’t do any of these things. He only smiles—a sad, almost grandfatherly smile the likes of which he never showed while the two of them still lived.

“So we meet again,” he says. “I was hoping to see you here someday. I have had many students after you, but you are still my favorite.”

Something inside Tatsumi recoils at the phrasing. “Your favorite?” he repeats quietly.

“You were like a son to me,” Master Ichiro says. “It’s a shame I needed to be so strict with you to ensure your survival. I loved you dearly, you know.”

_Loved me? Master Ichiro…loved me? Like a son?_

Little by little, Tatsumi’s lips form the next words, quiet, calm yet filled with deep betrayal. “And you never told me?”

Master Ichiro blinks, taken aback. “Tatsumi-kun—”

“Don’t make me laugh!”

Bursting past Tatsumi’s side, Reika leaps into his path, glaring up at the old master like she wants to strangle him. “You loved him? Like a son?” she yells. “Don’t be ridiculous! Don’t even think of claiming the title of love when all you ever did was cause him pain and suffering!”

For a second, Tatsumi is convinced Master Ichiro will hit the shrine maiden, right here, in the middle of the street. But his old teacher does no such thing. He only frowns.

“I needed to do so,” he tries to explain. “It was for his own safety. Otherwise, Tatsumi-kun would—”

“ _Silence!_ ”

Reika is positively trembling with rage. “For your own good! For your own safety! How many times have I heard that excuse?” Her hands are clenched into fists, barely restrained from grabbing Master Ichiro’s collar and shaking him. “I don’t care what you tell me! People who claim to love their children and hurt them ‘for their own good’ should never be allowed to raise a child—”

“Reika-san.”

Striding past, Daisuke places a hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her back. “It’s all right, Reika-san,” he says in an undertone. “Leave it to Kage-san.”

Taking a sharp breath, Reika closes her eyes and forces herself to calm down. At the same time, Okame gives Tatsumi a subtle nudge forward. “Go tell him, Kage-san!”

Tatsumi looks at his friends. Then at Master Ichiro. The man who raised him…the man who caused him so much pain.

The fear is still deep within him, intensely and painfully real. But…he isn’t the same person he used to be.

Tatsumi bows his head.

“Thank you for raising me,” he says, “and telling me the truth.”

Reika lets out a disbelieving gasp, but Tatsumi squares his jaw. Sizes up his old master. Swallows the fear of repercussions.

Then he swings and punches him hard across the face.

“And that,” he says as he returns to his cheering friends, leaving a startled Ichiro behind, “is for everything else.”

He doesn’t notice until later, but a large part of his soul heals that day.

—

When Tatsumi feels the pull, he almost doesn’t want to leave.

Of course he can’t wait to see Yumeko again. But returning to her will mean leaving his friends behind, the people he has grown to love so dearly, the people who helped him heal. He’s going to miss them. Even if, sooner or later, he will surely meet them here again.

“I have to go soon,” he tells them when he can’t resist the pull for much longer. “I can feel Ningen-kai calling. But…I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

The others’ faces are both happy and sad. “I’m glad you can return to Yumeko-chan,” Reika says. “May you be happier in your next lifetime.”

“Happier, and may you live longer,” Daisuke adds. “We shall miss you. But, who knows—maybe we shall soon follow you into Ningen-kai.”

“Or we’ll still wait here when you come back,” Okame replies. “Either way, look after Yumeko-chan for us. Tell her we still miss her.”

Tatsumi feels choked up, but he cracks a smile. “I will.”

A heavy silence falls. The pull grows stronger. None of them know what to say.

“Thank you all,” Tatsumi says at length. “I’ll never forget what you three did for me.”

Daisuke smiles. “Don’t mention it.”

“That’s what friends are for,” says Reika.

_Friends,_ Tatsumi repeats in his head. His friends.

He’s going to miss them so much.

But the pull grows ever stronger, nearly impossible to resist. “It’s almost time,” Tatsumi says. “I—”

This is as far as he gets before Okame pulls him into a crushing embrace.

Tatsumi splutters, but before he can respond, Daisuke and Reika join them to form a big hug-pile. Tatsumi tries to hug them all back at once, physical impossibilities be damned. Okame sniffles a little.

“Take care,” he says. “Good luck.”

Tatsumi closes his eyes. Then, suddenly, the pull grows too strong, and he transforms into a ball of light and starts drifting away towards Ningen-kai…towards a new life, hopefully with Yumeko.

On the grass by the shrine, the other three remain behind.

Okame wipes his eyes, sniffling again. “I miss him already,” he says.

“Me too,” Reika answers. “Now who am I supposed to give tired looks to when you two are being ridiculous?”

Daisuke smiles sadly.

“We shall all miss him, I think,” he says. “After all, he is part of the family.”

—

From the chamber of Kage Haruko’s daughter-in-law erupt the cries of a newborn baby.

Kage Kousuke has a little brother. The child has wide, solemn eyes with a hint of purple, and somehow he looks like he has already been to this chamber, this palace.

They name him after a hero, the fearless young shinobi who slayed the Harbinger and then the kitsune god.

A boy named Tatsumi will surely be just as brave.


End file.
